James and Marieke: A Pirates Adventure
by LittleRedd
Summary: In the Carribean a privateer formerly serving the King rebels, kidnapping a young royal maiden with the hopes of gaining a large ransom. After years of a life of crime, he plans to retire with the loot from this last plot but emotions soon get in the way.
1. Chapter 1: A Kidnapping

Marieke turned in her sleep, unable to stamp out the nauseous feeling growing like mold in the pit of her stomach. It clawed at her throat, unsatisfied, wanting more. Briefly, the pain brought her mind to the surface of a sea of dreams where she floated, floundered, and then fell back into their murky depths. Biting back her moans, Marieke inwardly turned to the dream once more.

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A lone ship huddled on the pale horizon, faster than the approaching dawn but just as silent. In all its grace, the only one to witness the arrival was a withered and bent lamp-lighter on thin stilts. Glancing down every now and than at the cobblestones beneath him so as to avoid slipping in the uneven grooves, the old man squinted through the night but could not distinguish one shadow from another.

A chill burst of wind snuck up on the lamp-lighter, tugging insistently at the threadbare coat hung loosely about him, urging the man onward. With a sigh-turned-cough, he turned back to his work and reached in to snuff the flame. The withered man shut the lamp box and turned to resume gazing at the mystery ship.

However, the ship was now gone.

The old man shook his head and clutched at the thin coat on him. Perhaps he had imagined the whole thing. Yes, that was it. Chuckling with a little worried smile on his face, the lamp-lighter sighed and hobbled on.

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The fickle wind, up to its usual tricks, nipped playfully at the figure cloaked in shadow standing possessively at the ship's bow. The man shifted his weight, eyeing the coast for a safe harbor. "Safe" here meaning no questions asked and no prying eyes.

A similar though slightly rotund shadow appeared beside him with a faint whisper. "Captain?"

The taller one turned to greet his companion and Bo 'sun. "Yes, Mister Lam?"

Lam paused, scratching the back of one hand nervously. He looked about, as if someone were watching. "I don't like this, James. Not one bit. It cannot end well for you-!" His voice rose to a desperate, pleading whine.

The Captain chuckled, enjoying his friend's comical unease. Throughout their friendship Lam was the voice of caution while James threw that caution to the wind. Looking back, it was almost heartlessly that James ignored good reason and his good friend for the sake of reckless and often dangerous fun. In fact, taking a step back now, James could see the beginnings of a good nervous sweat trickling down poor Lam's face which was already taught with fear.

James chuckled. "There's no need to worry. We'll just swoop in, and swoop out-"

"You're not a bloody bird! For crying out loud, James-!"

"-we'll be back before you know it, and-"

"You'll get caught and you'll bloody well be sorry for it."

"I'll write the ransom, we'll have her back to port in less than a week," James finished, smiling still. Lam huffed, crossing his arms over his round tummy.

"I won't rescue you," he pouted. James laughed aloud, a hearty laugh, letting he wind seize his hair when he threw back his head.

"When have I ever needed rescuing?"

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Marieke woke, gradually. The sea of dreams released her at last, leaving her drenched in sweat with a salty trail of tears down one cheek. Marieke wiped at the tears, impatient with her own weakness to a silly dream. Even now, she could not remember what it was about, but that was no consolation now. Marieke saw in her mind's eye random images flashing wildly, incomprehensible on their own and only serving to confuse her more.

Marieke lazily stood up, covering her yawning mouth with the edge of a bathrobe, and stumbled to the window. Westminster Tower glowed a dull yellow against the light blue sky, already pale with morning, while just feet away lay the coastline. It read 4:00. Marieke groaned and let her forehead rest against the cool window pane while watching the harbor ships bob up and down to the ocean's churning.

Marieke's eyes flew open, and she had to brace her hands against the window to keep from falling. She did not scream or run away, but instead watched in terrified amazement as the creepers hanging on an oak outside began to move. The shadows lengthened suddenly, grew taller, and took form. They became men, angry and frightening, with hunched shoulders against the now biting wind but steadily approaching. Like a child who cannot tear his eyes from a dead thing for disgusted curiosity, Marieke saw and was afraid. The shadows crept forward haltingly, jumping here and there to meld with other shadows and disappear, then split to come forward again. Marieke stepped away from the window so as not to be seen, praying that they would pass quickly.

Whomever she prayed to did not care to listen that night.

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Minutes passed as Marieke waited, 'til she grew impatient again with her fears and stepped toward the window/doors. She saw

nothing. The sun was just on the horizon, that glorious moment where earth and sky meet again only to part second later, and it flooded her bedroom with pure light. Marieke shielded her eyes from the radiance and flung open the doors to a veranda. Again, she saw nothing. Marieke smiled, confused, but relieved even so. Turning to her bed, her thoughts turned to another day of suitors and fancy clothes. Her shadow on the floor danced with Marieke and she admired its shape as she walked back to bed, then frowned, and stood still.

The shadow lengthened, and grew as she stood there, 'til it felt foreign and was no longer her own, but another's. Stunned, Marieke shook, suddenly remembering those frightening dreams as the shadows squirmed and separated. Two shadows, one shaking in terror the other very scary and very tall, stood beside each other. Marieke opened her mouth to scream, but was stifled. Hands encircled her, binding her, forcing her to the floor in the struggle. Marieke was flung over a man's shoulder to hang there as he began the descent from her balcony. Not a word was spoken.

Marieke fell from the man's shoulder as they reached the street. Stumbling briefly as she stood, Marieke ran from him, tugging at the dry cloth in her mouth though her hands were bound and almost useless. She managed to scream once before her captor seized her from behind and swept the girl off her feet. The man ran with his fellow kidnappers as he stuffed a sweaty bandanna into her mouth, allowing the wind to catch his hair. Marieke spit the now slimy wad from her mouth into the street and screamed again to anyone who would hear. Looking ahead, she saw the docks nearing and screamed louder. Her captor slung her over one shoulder again to allow him a free hand as the kidnappers clambered into a boat tethered to the pier. One of the three rose from their seat to shove off from the pier, and Marieke could only watch as the familiar land slipped away.

Marieke, too full of confusion, hurt, indignation, and fear, overflowed with emotions and began to cry.

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James boarded the ship with his prize. His crew stood awkwardly clumped in little groups of three our four nervously pacing or arguing. Some men smiled faintly at the sight of their captain's return, others scowled or simply turned away.

The Bo' sun approached him, eyeing the girl in his arms warily. "Captain…"

James chuckled, anxious to get the child in a cabin, silent and out of sight. "What has happened here?" he shifter the girl's weight.

Lam stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure. "The men are uneasy James!" he whispered urgently. "You heard me before and I'll say it again: this cannot end well for you!" James sighed in reply and laughed aloud to mask impatience. Lam continued, undaunted. "No! You hear me out, James! I know what this means to you- this is big. Big money, here, on the line. But need I remind you that so is your life? Our lives?"

James sobered and stared grimly down at the little man. The girl in his arms twisted slightly, still blubbering into his already very dirty shirt.

"Very well. I'll meet with the crew myself, if need be, but first let me put her away and draw up the ransom not for the family."

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James stretched the thick parchment before him while dipping a long quill in the inkwell. The ink, green as a new cabin boy at sea or emeralds in the sunlight, dripped lazily over the inkwell lip as he scraped off excess ink. Sitting down, he began to write.

"From the Captain Jameson Tynell of Kent under His Majesty, The King

To the Lord and Lady Wigner of Blyth,

The young Lady Wigner is currently safe within our care. . ."


	2. Chapter 2: A Comedy of Errors

Chapter Two: A Comedy of Errors

Marieke jumped as a man burst in to the already very cramped cabin. She was about to scream at him, tear his eyes out, slap the man, anything- but instead turned her face to resume retching. The intruder watched in mild amusement, pity, guilt, and disgust. After a bout of dry heaving, Marieke rested her head against the wall and gasped for air. Figuring there was nothing left to heave, Marieke turned away from the stinking pail and curled into a little shuddering mound of self-pity.

The man cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Lady, but I have come to beg your forgiveness and explain the situation at hand."

Marieke peeked up at the man through a curtain of hair. He was beautiful, she thought, though somewhat gaunt in the face, as if starved or distraught. He was her captor. Nonetheless, Marieke did not hate him. Rather instead she felt as if the entire ordeal were just some ugly "business" transaction, and did not favor the outcome. So far they had not beaten, raped, or starved her (though the illness was doing a good job on that alone), and the girl was being treated with the utmost respect. Although Marieke had only been on board for two days, she had not expected to live even that long.

The intruder paused in his introduction.

"Forgive me. Allow me to explain. I am Captain James Tyne and you, Lady Wigner, are now my charge until your loving mother and father graciously give me three thousand pounds," he folded his arms across his broad chest, still smiling.

Marieke nearly laughed aloud at the silly man. She giggled to herself, rocking back and forth. "James you've made a grave error, one that will foil this plan."

The captainsmiled too, with a hint of confusion and frustration beginning to show. "Oh? Do enlighten me, Madame."

Marieke couldn't take it. She threw her head back and laughed at the formalities, the foolishness of it all. "I'm no lady, sir! I'm the scullery maid!"


	3. Chapter 3: To Sit in Solemn Silence

Author's Note: My thanks go to the few reviewers and my good friend Artus Gehn for their support and constructive criticism.

On the side, I'd like to mention that the name Marieke was taken from a Dutch folk-tale and is pronounced "Mary-kah." While I do not "own" the characters of JM Barrie's Peter Pan, this story is meant to be a telling of Captain James Hook's life before encountering Peter and Neverland.

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Chapter 3: To Sit in Solemn Silence

James stepped back, stumbling, in shock.

"Beg your pardon?" he whispered. The girl continues laughing wickedly.

"Oh you poor fool, I do pity you!" she giggled, wiping the hair from her eyes. "Miss Lady Jane Wigner was out that night at a gala celebrating her seventeenth birthday. Here you hoped for the golden egg and got an ugly duckling! Wanted a Lady and you got the Maid Marieke!"

James glared at the girl from where he stood, his mind reeling, trying to conjure a solution. The letter had already been sent just yesterday, Mister and Mrs. Wigner would have already alerted the police. The pardon could save them all… but no, it was too late. The king had offered amnesty to all privateers now that the war was over and their services no longer needed, but James had been among the few to refuse. Though he still flew the king's colours, James was hunted, infamous for numerous crimes and not having accepted forgiveness.

James let a slow, naughty grin steal over his lips. The girl ceased to laugh and began to shake. "That being the case madam, I'm sure the next few months at sea will give you and I plenty of time to become better acquainted!" he said while turning to leave.

The girl whimpered. "You'll not drop me on shore? I'm worth nothing to you! Nothing!"

James laughed and patted her head. "Au contraire, my child. I went to the trouble of hauling your pretty ass this far and I'll not let you go 'til I've gotten me money's worth!"

James violently punched the shut door for a while, pausing at last only to watch a trickle of blood snake between the worn knuckles. His various glittering rings bit into the skin and he could already see bruises blossoming about them. James grinned like a madman while sliding to the floor, his back to the door separating him from the girl's room.

It was a gamble. It had always been a gamble from the start; a hastily thrown-together "get-rich-quick" scheme. James knew all along that it would not be easy, but total defeat due to a stupid blunder on his part was never part of the plan. Now that James had lost the upper hand, he desired nothing more than to hurt her; make her feel just as lost and out of control as he was. The look of defiance and wickedly delightful trickery that lit the girl's face before he ran haunted and angered him.

James sighed, finally calming down while picturing the girl in his mind. She was attractive, of that there was no doubt. Though the illness did nothing for her, neither could it hide her pale complexion, pretty blonde hair, or her sea green eyes.

Marieke…. A Dutch name, if he was not mistaken. She looked to be at least sixteen, if not older. Perhaps eighteen, even. Well, if not returned she'd at least make a good companion for himself. James frowned. No, she could not be returned. Not now, anyway. So there was no other way for it. She'd have to come with.

Lifting himself from the gently rocking floor, James huffed with impatience and frustration and hastily raked one hand through his tousled hair before going above-deck.

"Mr. Lam!" He boomed out, and then winced as the man appeared beside him. "Oh, right, there you are. Didn't see you," he mumbled. "Please inform our guest that she will be dining with me tonight. I believe there are several trunks below-deck leftover from our last conquest of that Spanish armada containing some dresses. Show her to them, please, and have her ready by six o'clock."

Lam nodded obediently. James smiled and gave the pudgy man an affectionate nudge. "Thank you," he whispered. The Bo' sun only smiled back, understandingly, and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4: A Touch of Lace

Chapter 3: A Touch of Lace

Marieke glared into the looking glass, which glowered right back at her. She and the little copy cat hunched shoulders, crossed arms, and sighed in almost comical frustration as one. Finally, Marieke turned her back and they parted ways.

The dress, she decided, was not going to work.

And neither had thirty-two other dresses, all of which now lay scattered haphazardly about the room in little heaps of silk and lace. Marieke tugged at the bodice of the dress while nervously looking to the clock above the door. The little man had already visited twice warning her that time was running short, and each time Marieke had replied she was "nearly finished."

Marieke crossed her arms again in an effort to hide the embarrassingly low front showing off far too much skin for her comfort. The delicate gold lacing itched, but she loved how it flashed in the lamplight with every move she made. Right now she was moving to take it off. Arousing the captain was not a good idea in an already compromising position.

"Ma'am, are you quite finished, yet? Supper is growing cold and- well, you see- the Captain doesn't like to kept waiting!" Marieke rolled her eyes at the stuttering voice, but afterwards felt pity for the poor creature. With a tired groan she refastened the ties in back.

She sighed, frustrated, tugging at the dress front anxiously. "I'm coming!" she shouted back to the door. Hurriedly, Marieke took a swig of water from a jar left out for her while raking one shaking hand through her long hair and opened the door.

The tubby man stepped back, his eyes wide, and all motion on board came to a halt. Marieke stuck her nose in the air, as she had often seen her mistress do.

"I am ready."

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"Thank you Mister Lam. That will be all," James dismissed the Bo sun, who then bowed out of the room to leave he and Marieke alone.

James sipped his wine and surreptitiously peeked at the girl from over the rim. The table was quite long, separating the two by at least six or seven feet, and yet she cowered in the chair, picking at the feast before her. A lifetime of servitude had kept her back bent in humility, and it was clear that sitting tall was a struggle for her now.

James smiled warmly. "Marieke, I apologize again for this dreadful mistake. It was my intention to kidnap the young Lady Wigner and return her as soon as ransom was paid. I regret that anyone else had to get caught up in such a terrible affair."

The girl smiled but her eyes remained lifeless. James frowned, taking another sip of wine, and then paused. Her hands shook as she reached for her own goblet. Lord, the girl must have been terrified, and it almost caused James to swell with pride that his figure could inspire such terror. Instead, he only felt sympathy and shame.

From across the table, the captain admired her. The crimson dress perfectly complemented her blonde hair and altogether she positively shimmered in the wavering candlelight.

Their gazes met.

James quickly looked away. Clearing his throat, James resumed the rather one-sided conversation. "Mr. Lam is at the moment preparing a room for you adjoining my own complete with clothing and other necessities."

Marieke snapped to attention. James continued.

"Lam will be available to assist you, if a need should ever arise. I will provide you with defensive weaponry as well, in the case that we are ever attacked and invaded-"

"My room?" the girl interjected.

James blinked, befuddled. "What about your room?"

Marieke blushed. "I am not to have my own room?"

He smiled, still confused. "Well, yes, you're to have your own room. It's just kind of- well, attached, to my own." She shook all the more at this. The captain's eyes narrowed to slits, and he cocked his head to one side questioningly. "Is that a problem?"

Marieke scowled. "Not at all, sir. However, with permission, I will require a dagger before going to sleep."

James smiled. "Suicide is not the answer, my love."

"I couldn't agree more. But I will need weaponry for…'defensive purposes.' I like to sleep undisturbed. "

James laughed and finished off the wine with a little toast. "Hear, hear!"


	5. Chapter 5: This Little Light of Mine

Author's Note: My thanks again go to the one loyal reviewer. As for the rest of you, a pox on your firstborn. (Forgive me, but I do love that phrase. Too many wizard movies in this house, I guess.) I ask so little! (Need I remind you?) Please request, comment, or criticize. All are welcome. Thank you. –Little Redd.

Chapter Five: This Little Light of Mine

Marieke watched the strange man from the corner of one eye while James stood at the window sill, thoroughly enjoying the whole evening. She feigned disinterest, but James fascinated her in every way.

He was a man, for one, a criminal marching to the fast and thrilling beat of his own drum. He told wild tales of life-threatening adventure and intrigue, and it was clear that having such an adoring audience thrilled him.

Marieke frowned, noting the swagger and slur of speech. His drunkenness bothered her. While the drink instilled confidence, it often made men such as he too brash, too brave, bold, and reckless. James strutted about the room like a great peacock, waving the bottle about like a sword while recounting tales of previous victories.

James sobered a little and leaned in to brush her cheek with one hand. "I had a sister, once. Looked jus' like you, she did. Taller, perhaps."

Marieke swallowed nervously but smiled encouragingly while fighting off the urge to cough at his foul breath. "What is her name?"

James pulled away, stunned, it seemed. "Was," he corrected.

Marieke frowned. "Pardon?"

He shuddered and threw the drink to the wall where it shattered. "Her name was Victoria. She is dead now."

Marieke drew back, suddenly afraid. "I'm so sorry, forgive me. I had no idea."

James shook his head and swore under his breath. "Just go."

"Go."

"What?"

"Leave me in peace."

"Captain, I'm so sorry. Please, I didn't mean to-"

James, who had walked away to face the wall suddenly slammed one clenched fist. Marieke was frightened to see this seemingly impenetrable man trembling, and nearly ran as James turned to her with a manic look creeping into his features.

James reached for a lock of hair and laughed when she flinched at his touch. Leaning in, he whispered. "What would you say if I kissed you? Right now?"

Marieke pulled away from the mad pirate. She could see an old hurt in his eyes desperately trying to hide behind a façade of power and strength and was now very sorry for having pulled it into the revealing light.

"Let me go, Mr. Tynell. I wish to retire," she said slowly, ignoring the confusion in his eyes as she gently pushed him away. He was expecting refusal with a slap, harsh words exchanged, a bang, anything but the sad, though forgiving gaze she returned to soothe such anger.

It worked. James moved away suddenly before grabbing a bottle of gin on the side table next to them. "Leave me. I apologize. You may go."

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That night, a hot southern wind blew in along with the beginnings of a storm. The crew expected rain but waited for the seemingly inevitable outburst of rain in vain. Not a drop fell, but all around them lightning struck and scattered the seas.

James watched from the comfort of his cabin, seated cross-legged on a French sofa while toying with the white feather on an enormous hat. Angry and frustrated with himself, he childishly retreated to the solitude of his cabin.

The day had been unlike any other, he thought, and yet ended like any other: he was alone. Speaking of which, until yesterday every day in monogamous line-up his life had ended bittersweet, alone, but not lonely. Until he met Marieke he had never asked for more.

Funny, how a taste of something so sweet could incite thisevilgreed.

Nevertheless, Marieke puzzled him. Besides the occasional whore on board, James had never really met a woman. He had never liked the women of the night, who often caused trouble amongst the rowdy crew and therefore were not allowed on his ship. But Marieke was hardly the prostitute type. She was so clean, honest, and pure,- a breath of fresh air for one so used to London smog.

James shifted his weight slightly and lay back on the couch.

Typically, he would take what he wanted and be done with it. A simple kiss was all he asked but she refused him, yet the animalistic drive for instant gratification was no longer there when it came to Marieke.

A knock at the door startled James from his reveries.

James cleared his throat. "Come in."

Lam's round face popped in the doorway. "Captain, ah, James, a storm is brewing on the horizon. Looks mighty fierce. I just thought you might like to know, see-"

James smiled. "Thank you, Lam. I'll be right out."

Lam returned the smile and nodded. The man hovered there for a moment, hesitating. James chuckled quietly.

"Yes Mr. Lam?"

Lam fully entered the room now. "How is the little Mistress?" James scoffed, causing Lam to stare quizzically.

"'Mistress' indeed. She's a scullery maid," the captain responded. He lay back, fully reclined now with the ridiculous hat to hide his scowling face.

Lam was silent. "James, you're drunk. You know I don't appreciate it when you tease me like this."

"I reserve the right to get drunk whenever I damn well please! This is not a joke, my friend, I am entirely serious," James said while giggling to himself and taking another swig of brandy.

The Bo' sun stared wide-eyed, his mouth open in shock. James would have laughed, but thought it best not to belittle the poor man any further.

"By first light we shall sail with the morning tide and be out to Caracas!" James ignored the little man's dumbfounded expression. "If we don't make the next tide it'll be the noose for us all."

Lam finally spoke, haltingly. "All our plans, James! How could you-! I thought- I…" he groaned, and then sat heavily on the floor with a little "thock." The man shook his head sadly. "What now, Captain?"

James sighed, a great burden weighing down his broad shoulders. "I do not know."

Marieke slept fitfully, visited by strange yet all to familiar dreams. Waking with a start, she believed for a few moments longer that the nightmare was still upon her. It was dark now, but for a single candle that lit the cabin corner, fighting for the small yellow circle domain against a fierce wind.

The candle wept, hot thick tears of liquid wax on the earth where there it pooled and solidified. Fearing the unknown evil in the dark, Marieke went to the candle, shielding it, and was burnt.

The light shone in the darkness, its faint glow barely illuminating her face. A cruel wind swept in, and the light was no more.


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